The Spectral Breath

Chapter Twenty: Sleepless

Through the tent's parting came the soft crackle of a burning fire, flickering against the shadows that patterned the barren ground in waves. There was a singer's voice, a gruff and deep voice, muffled by the narrow tip of an oaken pipe that's smoky rings sailed into the charcoal sky, disappearing beneath the newly risen moon and twinkling stars, so distant that they could have been mistaken for fireflies.

I remembered the verse. We are not alone, yet winter dawns in with a swift arrow, all we know is lost, yet we must press on, as steady as a beating drum in this world of stone...

An old Dalish tune. One only the Keeper knew and yet sung so mournfully that one could feel the sorrow behind it.

The song broke off at the last unsteady note and only when silence fell did the light steps of my feet catch the Keeper's keen ears. He did not turn, nor look back. He merely continued to smoke his pipe, blowing out wisps that trailed embers, and when the wind picked up, he took the pipe from his chapped lips and whistled a faint tune, soft to the ears.

A sheen of sweat covered the elder elvhen's brow, while wisps of white hair clung to his wrinkled skin. It was a strange thing to see one age, especially when it did not happen in my time. Age was not physical but mental. The bodies did not decay without control. It simply was not true. And yet there he was, appearing older after each passing year, seeing death in every wrinkle, aching bone and greying lock.

"Don't linger by the shadows, Elgar'shiral. It'd do you no good. You've lingered there for too long," the Keeper said in a solemnly hushed tone. There was sincerity behind it, a deeper meaning that we both understood. He gestured to the space beside him with a light pat of the ground. "Sit and tell me what keeps you up so past dusk. And you need not stare. I know how I must look to one such as you."

"You do not look a day over fifty years, Keeper," I said.

He chuckled, a dry chuckle that brought on a hollow cough. "As said before, a poor liar. Age I do not fear, as much as what awaits the other side."

"You do not believe in Falon-Din?" I sat at his side. An arm rested over one knee to support my chin. "The keeper of the beyond?"

Keeper Athrion gave another deep, throaty chuckle and blew out a thin trail of smoke. "The guide to the afterlife? At my age, there's room to be unsure."

"The Gods existed once. They may still do."

"They have ignored our plights for far too long, dear girl," he stated, unable to keep a bite from his tone. "I have come to the conclusion that there are no Gods looking over us. If there were, Fen'Harel long hid them away, leaving us to suffer."

"Do you truly believe the Dread Wolf was responsible?"

"Do you have a better reason, girl?"

"You know what I believe," I said and tugged my robe tighter around myself.

"Indeed, but you are over eight thousand years too late. You were not there when the Gods disappeared and when our empire crumbled into dust." Orange specks flashed in his eyes as he watched the fire closely. His lips curved downward. "These legends are all we know to be true."

"The Gods were not always perfect, Keeper," I whispered. "In times of spite they waged wars among themselves, bitterly pit elvhen against elvhen, but never would they abandon their people to such a length. I believe they cared for the People once and still do. Whatever happened, be it the Dread Wolf or an unknown being, I still believe they will come back."

"Such faith is bright in the young, but in the old it is merely something to be thought over. But you did not answer my question, dear girl. What keeps you up so?"

I looked down. "Dreams. Whispers in my ears. I see his face every night."

The Keeper nodded knowingly. "Ah, Him."

"What if he was right? What if we are more connected then I realised? What if he knows where I am? What if-"

The Keeper tsked. "Too many questions for one night, dear girl. Too many questions. No wonder you are deprived of sleep." He gently squeezed my shoulder. "Listen to an old man's advice for a change. Worry less on your old master and worry more on what is happening to you. Your old master may be anywhere and these dreams of yours may be his design to torment, to get you to forget what is important."

"I wish it was that simple," I said and allowed my gaze to fall on the firelight. Its waving flares easily enticed distraction.

"It can be. But I fear that is not all keeping you awake."

Of course he would notice. I let out a heavy sigh. "We need to leave for Skyhold soon, Keeper."

"As you should."

I looked up, surprised. "You're not upset?"

"You have your own path you must take, but that does not mean that I will not miss the company." His words fell on deft lips for several moments before he sighed and wiped his brow. "I have something I must tell too, child. I am getting old and it will be soon that the clan will need a new Keeper, one that can guide through the perils of this world. Keep them safe. I want you to be that person."

For the better half of the hour, I simply stared at him, unbelieving, but it was clear from his posture, shoulders back and head high, his pipe back between his teeth and lips in a fine line, that he was serious.

"Keeper..." I searched the fire, as if the excuse lay in the there. "I appreciate the offer, but I cannot-"

Keeper Athrion raised his hand. "Merely think it over. I need not an answer yet."

"What of Cyrian? He is the Second-"

"Exactly," he said sharply. "The second to me. There is a reason I did not choose him to be the first. The day I saw how he jealously guarded the title. He would not put the clan's needs before his own and selfishness is not a virtue a Keeper should value."

"And you think I wouldn't do the same?" I asked hesitantly.

"I believe that if you do, it will be the fall of you. And you know more than any previous Keeper could hope to know. You are from our past, have lived what we could only imagine. Merely think on it, dear girl. As I said, I need not an answer yet."

Keeper Lahris Elgar'shiral, the First and ancestor of Clan Sahlin. The title sent shivers down the spine. I could scarcely believe it. Such responsibility was not meant for me. It was a burden, a curse, and I already had my own problems. Adding another onto them, a title and position nonetheless, with more than fifty others with most untrusting was just foolish. What the Keeper had in mind and how he even thought of the idea was beyond me.

Gazing into the camp, I caught the glimpse of Solas retreating from his tent, showing concern, more so than usual. In his hand was a cup, still warm by the steam that lifted from it. A cloud seemed to be hung over him, as ragged and dark as his cloak preventing the cold night's chill.

At the sight of the apostate, Keeper Athrion blew out another puff of smoke, one that joined the fire's in a tangled dance, before he took to his feet, grunting slightly as he did so. "Think over my proposal, dear girl," he said with a light smile and then walked away.

Solas must have noticed the elder elvhen leaving as he soon took his place, legs folded and cup poised between his finger and thumb, by the fire.

"Evening," I said with a slight smile on my lips.

He gave a light bow of his head in greeting and brought the cup to his lips.

Solas' face turned a slight shade of green at the taste and it was all he could do to not bring it back up.

A root-like smell, a mixture of pine and river water, filled the senses and it was only when I caught sight of the muddy water that I realised what it was.

"That's tea," I said incredulously.

He merely cast a sideward glance and took another sip. "Indeed it is."

"How did you even get tea?" I asked at his souring expression.

"I bring it with me on my travels. It has its uses," he said. "Though it's uses are never pleasant."

"I see. And your reason for drinking tea is?"

"I needed to shake the dreams from my mind." He glanced away. "It was... unpleasant."

"Tell me about it."

For a heartbeat, I thought I glimpsed fear in the elvhen's pale eyes. The look was gone in an instant and Solas left his place to pace about the area restlessly, muttering as he walked. "One of my oldest friends has been captured by mages, forced into slavery. I heard the cry for help as I slept."

"Captured? How was he or she captured?

"You mean it."

I felt my brows furrow. "It? Then it is a spirit."

"Yes. My friend is a spirit of wisdom. Unlike the spirits clamouring to enter our world, it was dwelling quite happily in the Fade. It was summoned against its will, and wants my help to gain its freedom and return to the Fade."

"Don't spirits want to enter our world, or have I misjudged that?"

He scowled. "Some do, certainly, just as many Orlesian peasants wish they could journey to exotic Rivain. But not everyone wants to go to Rivain. My friend is an explorer, seeking lost wisdom and reflecting it. It would happily discuss philosophy with you, but it had no wish to come here physically."

"Then why would they summon it if they can just talk to it?" I asked and stood. "Unless they intend to know something it doesn't want to say."

Solas sighed gravelly. "That's what I have been thinking. It knows a great deal of lore and history, but why would a mage capture my friend unless it did not wish to co-operate?" He tried to mask his anger, but his voice more than showed it. "It is possible that they seek information it does not wish to give and intend to torture it. It's because of this that I need a favour from you and the others."

"Ma nuvenin," I said. "We have time on our side. Where are we going to go?"

Solas took a deep breath and bowed his head. "Thank you for this. I got a sense of my friend's location before I awoke. Do you have a map?"

I reached into the thick black felt of my satchel and pulled out a partly torn-edged map, one I had found in the Inquisition Vault, though it was not like anyone would miss it. Solas knelt on the ground as the map was spread flat. The map displayed most of Fereldan and Orlais and I had taken the time in marking places that were worth knowing and those that were too dangerous to travel. I gave the apostate a roll of charcoal and he quickly slashed a cross in the south-eastern part of Orlais in a place called the Emerald Graves.

"It is far," Solas said as he leaned back on his heels, "but if we hurry, we may get there in time before the mages do anything to my friend."

My gaze lingered on the map. It was a long way and was a path that led passed the Frostback Mountains. There was no telling how far the Inquisition's spies were in looking for us. It may have only been a step out of the Brecilian Forest for them to know where we were. But Solas' friend was in danger, and though it felt foolish to go so far out, it was for a worthy cause, or at least I forced myself to believe that.

"Then we better go before something happens." I picked the map up by the corners, folded it and placed it back into the satchel. The felt's lace was pulled tight. "I do not know where this place is, though. I've never been to the Emerald Graves."

"I have been there once with the Inquisitor. I can show us the way."

"Then we leave at dawn."

...

Just a quick chapter as the next one is going to be well long...
Thanks so much to everyone who's commented 3 I'm glad you're enjoying the story!